Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 60

POV: Damian

I watched the transformation on her face, and it was not what I had expected. The pleading, the terror, it all vanished in an instant, replaced by an unnerving, dead stillness. Her eyes, which had been shimmering with tears, became two chips of ice. She said nothing. She simply pulled her chin from my grasp, turned, and walked out of the study, her back ramrod straight.

Her reaction, or lack thereof, was… unsettling. I had expected broken sobs, grateful promises, the satisfying capitulation of a defeated enemy. Instead, I got that chilling, empty calm again. It left a sour taste in my mouth. Still, I had won. She would come to my bed tonight, and I would take back the control I had lost. And tomorrow, I would send a messenger to Fenrir, ordering him to halt his advance at the Thorne border.

I had never intended for this to be a massacre. My arrangement with Fenrir was for a limited military action. A show of force. A ‘disciplinary measure' to cripple Marcus's military capabilities and force his unconditional surrender. I had explicitly forbidden Fenrir from harming Marcus Thorne himself. I was a king, not a butcher. I needed Marcus broken, not dead. I needed Seraphina to understand that her family's survival depended entirely on my goodwill.

I was in control. Fenrir was a hyena, but he was my hyena. He knew that to defy a direct order from me would be suicide.

I poured another glass of wine, the victory feeling strangely hollow. Her new silence was more infuriating than her old defiance.

I was halfway through the glass when my Beta, Elias, burst into the room, his face pale, a field report clutched in his hand.

"Get my personal guard," I roared, my voice a clap of thunder. "Saddle the horses. Now! We ride to the Thorne border at once!"

I had been played. My carefully controlled political maneuver had just spun catastrophically out of control. And as I buckled on my sword, a single, horrifying thought cut through my rage: I had just used the impending slaughter of Seraphina's father as a bargaining chip to force her into my bed.

I ran from the study, the shards of glass crunching under my boots.